Embittered, acne-faced, cheap-suited Gammonites screw another Yankee

Firstoff, let's accept that Josh Hamilton was destined to win MVP.

Hey, the man drove in 100 runs!

That's 12th best in the whole league!

Plus, Tea Party America loves a reborn, white ex-junkie who worships Jesus, refuses to let alcohol touch his body, and wears cool tattoos, which makes him edgy in a Disney-biker-Miley Cyrus sort of way. He wouldn't get my vote, but we knew he'd win. Hell, by mid-August, the world had decided. America never wants to disappoint God.

Still... Robbie Cano... third?

Fuck you, MLB. Fuck you, hacks.

You had to do it, didn't you? You had to show the dirty, rotten New York Yankees -- the market you never ascended to -- who's boss! So you voted Miguel Cabrera, the man without a glove, based on the numbers that didn't matter in the case of Josh Hamilton. You needed a Bristol Palin. Oh! you showed us! Too bad you couldn't justify pumping a Redsock into the top three. The perfect tri-fecta.

Robbie Cano is baseball's best infielder. You assholes gave Jeter a gold glove, only because Cano is his automatic DP relay to first. By mid-May, Cano was the Yankees best player, and in September, while Cabrera honed his average in meaningless at-bats, and while Hamilton nursed his tender ribs, worrying if he could hit that magic 100th RBI, Cano single-handedly pulled the Yankees to the pennant.

Last year, the MVP went to Joe Mauer. Two years ago, Dustin Pedroia.

Robbie Cano, third...?

I don't believe this shit.